Chapter Fifty-Six: Look, the Drunkards of the Great Tang

Chapter Fifty-Six: Behold, the Drunkards of the Great Tang

Zhang Qian could never have imagined, even on pain of death, that the modest reforms he had introduced to change the local people's ways of production would, on their very first trial, be met with corner-cutting and material skimping by the well-meaning Steward Ren. Nor could he have guessed that, even after such tampering, his innovations would spark a whirlwind of joy throughout the village.

At this moment, he sat in his own home, dark circles beneath his eyes from lack of sleep, receiving three uninvited and distinguished guests: He Zhizhang, Zhang Ruoxu, and Sun Anzu.

These three, who had only left his house at the hour of Xu (9 to 11 p.m.) the previous night, now took turns, with faces full of woe, to explain why they had come to disturb him so soon after breakfast. (Note: "morning meal" refers to the first meal of each day; in the Tang dynasty, there were two main meals daily.)

“Thirteenth Young Master, I assure you, it was not my intention to become such an unwelcome guest,” began Sun Anzu, the eldest of the three, and, accordingly, the one with the most “compelling” reason. No sooner had they taken their seats and before Zijuan could even serve the tea, he explained, his face full of helplessness, “Last night, after returning home with the three miraculous medicines you gave me, I was struck by sudden inspiration, as if a veil had been lifted. I devised several new remedies for difficult ailments. So I dared not delay even a moment after breakfast this morning, but hurried here at once.”

“Alas, my young friend, how shameful it is to say!” Zhang Ruoxu, a forthright soul, could not wait for Zhang Qian to make sense of Sun Anzu’s words before he rolled up his sleeve and swept it across his face, feigning embarrassment. “My family is thin on heirs, so I have taken several concubines. Last night, after receiving the Six Spirits Floral Dew from you, I had one of them try it. The result was utter chaos in the inner chambers. When I awoke this morning, the noise was unbearable. So, shameless as it is, I have come to beg for more of that Wind Oil and Six Spirits Floral Dew. Otherwise, with so many mouths to please, I will be driven to distraction!”

“I do have some, but the bottles for the Six Spirits Floral Dew are still being custom-made,” Zhang Qian replied, suppressing his amusement and speaking softly to reassure him. “No need for concern, elder. I shall have Zijuan prepare several small gourds for you to use for now. When my friend Ren Cong returns from Chang’an with the glass bottles, I’ll send a fresh batch to you at once.”

“In that case, I won’t stand on ceremony!” Zhang Ruoxu’s joy was immediate, and he clasped his hands with a laugh. “Though I left in such a rush today, I still had my servant bring you some specialties from the south. Try them when you can, and if you find them to your liking, just say the word. Since we live so close, I can always send more your way!”

“You are too kind, elder, and I am most undeserving!” Compared to the abundance of the twenty-first century, ingredients in Tang times were truly scarce. The thought of southern delicacies made Zhang Qian’s heart leap with delight.

“Enough of their shameless excuses,” He Zhizhang interjected. As a civil official who had attained distinction in his youth, he was more mindful of his dignity and spoke last. “Last night, unable to return to Chang’an, I stayed over at Shi Weng’s home. While reading deep into the night, I reached a passage that begged for wine. Finding none, I took two swigs of your Six Spirits Floral Dew instead. The moment it touched my throat, it warmed my very core—what unrivaled delight! So, at first light, I urged them to come with me to beg more from you, to appease the wine spirit in my belly!”

“What? Elder, you drank the Six Spirits Floral Dew?!” Zhang Qian was stunned, his question bursting forth before he could stop himself.

“What, is it not to be drunk?” He Zhizhang asked, his cheeks tinged pink. “Its color is radiant as the morning glow and its scent as fresh as spring in a peach orchard. Surely it cannot be poisonous.”

“Indeed, since it can be applied to the wrists and underarms, if it were poisonous, wouldn’t many people already have perished?” Sun Anzu quickly joined in, laughing. “I tasted a little last night—its sweetness surpasses that of Liu Ling’s finest wines tenfold, and its aftertaste lingers long. In moments, warmth spread through my limbs and joints; it is truly an excellent vehicle for medicine. If I could steep a dried white-flowered viper from Yongzhou in a gourd of this, it would surely be an unmatched remedy for wind diseases, cramps, and ulcers. That’s why I came here in haste—only to run into Ji Weng and Shi Weng on the way.”

As he spoke, he produced a large gourd from his sleeve as if by magic, and handed it over to Zhang Qian with expectant eyes.

“So you’ve mistaken my floral water for wine, and even plan to infuse it with dried snake to make medicinal liquor!” Only now did Zhang Qian finally understand the true purpose of his three elder guests. He was caught between laughter and tears.

He could not be entirely sure what liquid formed the base of twenty-first-century floral water, but the Six Spirits Floral Dew and Wind Oil he had “recreated” here were distilled from strong spirits. So, it was perhaps not so outrageous that his three elders all used the dew to sate their craving for alcohol.

But his vision had been to open a perfume workshop, selling sixty-milliliter bottles at a hefty profit—not to unwittingly start a distillery! This was a far cry from his original intent.

And besides, the other two elders, aside from Sun Anzu, were, in the eyes of posterity, literary titans: one’s single poem stood above half the Tang, the other was a towering pillar of the High Tang, mentor to Li Bai and Du Fu, and a guide in the arts to the likes of Zhang Xu and Wu Daozi. If these two were to perish from overindulgence, Zhang Qian feared not even twenty more lifetimes could absolve his guilt.

It should be noted that, to ensure the floral water evaporated quickly, he had distilled the alcohol base repeatedly. Even if the concentration did not reach modern pure ethanol, it was on par—by his estimation—with the infamous “Staggering Mule” from Inner Mongolia. These three elders, used to drinking low-proof rice wine, now knocked back sixty or seventy milliliters of “Staggering Mule” straight from the bottle—how could that not cause harm? (Note: “Staggering Mule” is a seventy-proof Chinese spirit.)

The thought of the dire consequences of overindulgence made Zhang Qian’s heart race with fear. He hurriedly waved his hands and explained loudly, “Elders, you mustn’t drink the Six Spirits Floral Dew again. Besides peach blossom essence, it contains musk and borneol—medicinal substances that could be harmful if ingested.”

“Musk, an aphrodisiac? No wonder I felt restless and overheated after tasting it last night…” Sun Anzu instantly lapsed into his medicine-obsessed manner, nodding thoughtfully. He then cast a sly glance at He Zhizhang and Zhang Ruoxu, his eyes full of mischief.

“Last night, I gave the Six Spirits Floral Dew and Wind Oil to my beloved concubine Hui Niang before bed, then slept through till dawn!” Zhang Ruoxu’s aged face blossomed like a peach in spring as he turned away, attempting to conceal a smile.

“When I read, I lose myself utterly in my books!” He Zhizhang shot Sun Anzu a stern glare and declared loudly.

“The musk is only to fix the fragrance, to ensure the floral scent lingers on clothes. There’s no other intent! Please, elders, don’t misunderstand!” Though Zhang Qian was a two-lifetime bachelor, he had hidden enough digital “treasures” to recognize the dangerous shift in the elders’ reactions. He quickly raised his hands and explained loudly.

“Musk prolongs the scent of flowers on clothing? How is that possible?” Sun Anzu, his curiosity piqued, immediately pressed for details, brow furrowed.

‘How should I know? I only read online that natural musk is what distinguishes fine perfume from cheap imitations. Those so-called animal-rights activists wail over feral cats and dogs but never care how many male musk deer die each year for their beloved scents!’ Zhang Qian groaned inwardly, but aloud he blamed it on his teachers. “I don’t know the principle myself, elder. I only saw it used in the Six Spirits Floral Dew by someone in my school, so I copied their method.”

“Again, copying without understanding!” Sun Anzu was so vexed he scratched at his beard. “Thirteenth Young Master, after all these years, what have you really learned? Others would give anything for your opportunities—have you spent them all napping?”

“Imperial Physician Sun, you’re being too harsh on the young man!” Zhang Ruoxu immediately came to Zhang Qian’s defense. “The learning of the Mohists is vast. Many devote their whole lives to mastering just one branch. Even if our young friend began at three, it’s only been seventeen or eighteen years—how could he master it all?”

“You—” Sun Anzu’s beard trembled with frustration, but he could not refute this.

Having rescued Zhang Qian from Sun Anzu’s censure, Zhang Ruoxu now felt he had earned great credit. With a smile, he leaned in to ask Zhang Qian in a low voice, “Nephew, since the Six Spirits Floral Dew contains musk and is unfit for drinking, what about the Wind Oil? I tasted it yesterday—its flavor was cool and sweet…”

“Absolutely not!” Zhang Qian cried in alarm, his scalp tingling. “That contains wintergreen oil, which is toxic! Drinking too much could be fatal!”

As the words left his mouth, he recalled the implication in Zhang Ruoxu’s comment and quickly seized his wrist to take his pulse. “Elder, did you really drink the Wind Oil? How much? Are you feeling unwell?”

“No, just a small bottle—two swallows at most. How much could I drink?” Zhang Ruoxu frowned, puzzled at Zhang Qian’s obvious concern.

“To speak of toxicity without reference to dose is simply to frighten people,” Sun Anzu said, shaking his head. “Too much wintergreen oil can cause dizziness and shortness of breath, but in small amounts, mixed with wine, it relieves pain, dispels cold, reduces swelling, and drives out parasites. That bottle of Wind Oil only contains a tiny pinch of wintergreen—how could it harm anyone?”

“It should be fine. I tasted a little myself yesterday. Not as pleasant as the Six Spirits Floral Dew, but there’s a certain refreshing quality…” He Zhizhang, lest Zhang Qian’s alarm not reach its peak, added his own confession.

“All three of you, all three elders tasted it? You didn’t… you didn’t finish it all, did you?” Though the weather was cold, beads of sweat rolled down Zhang Qian’s forehead. With faint hope, he asked for confirmation.

“Hush—” All three elders exhaled in unison, eyes averted, yet each wore a look of deep satisfaction and lingering desire.